A Reflection Not Your Own
by Tyki075
Summary: "When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Do you see yourself? Or do you see what I see, a madman, smiling back at you?" A one-shot about Allen and the Fourteenth.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN D. GRAY-MAN**

**Tyki075: Hello people! I feel like it's been a while since I've posted something.**

**Allen: You posted the new chapter for When Demigods Meet Exorcists like, a week ago.**

**Tyki075: I know, I know, no need to remind me!**

**Allen: So does this one, like some of your other ones, involve me being a depressing little ball of angst?**

**Tyki075: Yes, actually! Good job!**

**Allen: *sigh* Can we just get it over with then?**

**Tyki075: Che, what's got you in such a rush, you're not going anywhere.**

**Allen: Just 'cause I'm here doesn't mean I don't have anything else to do, plus, you lock me up here whenever you need to update your fanfictions, I'm pretty sure the others are still in the basement, the only reason I'm not stuck with them is you were hungry and didn't feel like waiting to type this up!**

**Tyki075: Shoosh! They have no need to know that! *to readers* Just ignore the tiny Moyashi in the corner and let's get to the story!**

A Reflection Not Your Own:

**Allen's POV**

When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Do you see yourself? Or do you see what I see, a madman, smiling back at you?

The room was dark, as I sat, enveloped in silence, not a sound, not anywhere. If someone had looked at me really closely right then, they would have seen tears fall down my cheeks and burst on the cold, stone floor, tears of all the times I never cried, tears of all the times I slowly died. In the corner of the room where shadows reigned supreme, a mirror shown through the blackness, confined in the glass was something that haunted me, mocked me. It was a dark shadow, a smile threatening to rip it features apart, the swirling black of it's outline clashing with the blood-red folds of it's coat. I knew what it wanted, I knew it could probably accomplish it as well, it wanted my body, it wanted me gone, it wanted to release chaos into the world, slowly burning everything to ash. I was the only thing in its way, and I was nothing but a thin piece of paper, easily ripped. The silhouette of a man turned into a monster watched me closely, almost calculating my next move, he thought this was a game, just like chess, each of us taking our turns, moving our players, until one knocks the other's king to the ground, and rids the world of their opponent.

The man, or more professionally known as the Fourteenth, never spoke, never uttered a word, but he still haunted me, he still laughed at me, silently, coldly. Even as I sat on my bed, face in hands, I heard his laughter, it rang in my ears like a taunting melody, reminding me that my time was short, that his turn was next, and checkmate was drawing near.

I could hear the footsteps of my friends passing in front of my door. On that day, when he took control and warm crimson liquid had stained my hands, he seemed to prove to me that I was but a puppet, tangled in my own strings watching the show play out, with no control over how it ends. My 'allies' hadn't looked at me the same since then, though they pretend like they aren't always ready to attack if need be. I see them going about their days like nothing is wrong, but I also see fear and unease in their eyes as they look at me, I'm not even sure they see me as their comrade or friend anymore. Maybe, in their eyes, I'm simply a monster, an animal, needing to be reined in with false comfort and fake friendship.

But, even though they may not trust me anymore, I still can't help but plead for help. 'Why can't you see the real me? Why can't you seem I'm crying, dying, inside? Why can't you see through the mask I put up? Is it because you're scared of what you'll find? Please, just hear me; hear me cry out for your help. See the true me that has experienced nothing but hurt. Please.' But they never hear me, they never come running, they never embrace me and tell me it'll be all right. They never whisper words of comfort, they barely spare a glance. This is just because of the Fourteenth, just because I'm not what they thought I was! It's not right for them to blame me! Blame the shadow, the shadow that hides himself in me, away from their view, where only I can see.

**_'Allen.'_**

I jumped at the sickly sweet voice calling my name from the other side of the room. I slowly turned my head towards the mirror and saw the shadow. His figure had become more defined, like it was taking a solid form.

**_'Allen, you know you can't win. Why fight fate? Your path was built before you even stepped foot on it, you can't change it now.'_**

My eyes widened. The Fourteenth had never spoken before, his voice was something that would never fail to send shivers down my spine; dangerous, yet warm at the same time, like the hiss of a snake, waiting to suffocate me. Then a realization occurred to me, why does he get a say?

"You sit there, smiling at me humorlessly, who are you to say what I do, who I am? What am I to you? Am I just your newest, most interesting toy? Am I just something to capture your attention, like that of a five year old, until I break or you get bored? I am no toy of yours, and you have no right to play with what you don't own!" I yelled at the monster in the mirror.

**_The Fourteenth looked shocked for a moment but soon recovered, his smile turning into a sneer, 'Dearest Allen, do you really think that you can beat me? This is just one game of cards you can't possibly win.'_**

I just smirked, "I think you've forgotten something, darling Fourteenth," His face turned from a sneer into a more cautious look, "The cards are _always_ in my favor."

**_'That's a ridiculous thing to rely on, boy.' The Fourteenth hissed, not liking my new, defiant attitude._**

I stood up and strode over to the mirror, looking the Noah straight in the eye, I said, "You must have not realized it but…" Before I finished, I punched the mirror, shattering it, glass raining onto the ground, not caring if I hurt my hand. I could see the Fourteenth in the shards, his soulless eyes wide, his mouth turned down in a frown.

"I never play with the cards I'm dealt."

**End.**

**Tyki075: Yay! That was fun to write!**

**Allen: O.O I hate you so much, sssssssooooooo much.**

**Tyki075: Why do you say that?!**

**Allen: Why must you take such joy in torturing me?**

**Tyki075: 'Cause I'm just like that.**

**Neah: You're a cruel, cruel person.**

**Tyki075: Hey! I'm not cruel to you... at least not in this fanfiction!**

**Neah: Maybe not but when you hurt my darling, adorable nephew, you hurt me!**

**Tyki075: Whatever you pervert. *to readers* Fav, follow, review, etc.! Squadala!**


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